Last night I dreamed that my flower garden was coming up. It was great, like one of those time lapse films when the flowers pop out and bloom in a few seconds. Crocuses mostly, I’m eager for them to come up because I planted some right in my lawn. But also some plants that came right out of my subconcious, really wierd ones that looked like artichokes. I must be ready for spring. Or I was getting a nocturnal woody.

If you water it, it will grow. Or, better yet : If you plant it, it will grow.

Best part of having an Indian food take out ? The left overs. I prefer eating this kind of food at home, where I can pig out with no remorse. (And no manners, too.) You have got to eat indian food with your hands. There’s just no other way.